Red with Rage, White with Fear
by NemoAves
Summary: As Saruman settles into a romantic relationship with his co-worker and long time friend Gandalf an old (and really only if you want to get technical) boyfriend from his darker college days has decided to show up and stir things up. Watch and enjoy as his life becomes one of those dime store romance novels we all love to read but never admit to doing so! Part 4 of my C.C. Series.
1. An Unwanted Visitor

_And here we go with more Gandalf/Saruman crack! wooooowho! You blame andquitefrankly for this if you don't already know! _

_Disclaimer: I don't own shit! please enjoy!_

One- An Unwanted Visitor

"See? I told you that you could bend you back like that, given a little _persuasion_."

Saruman Curunír White could only grumble and mutter in answer, cheeks red from exertion and embarrassment, as his boyfriend of several weeks, and fellow kindergarten teacher, Gandalf Olórin Grey laughed and cuddled into him. A twinkle in his eye.

Ever the adventurous and _active_ fellow, Gandalf had brought up the idea of using different sexual positions from an old copy of the Karma Sutra he had found while reorganizing his personal library the week before, it was apparently a "gag gift" given to him by his friends an age ago for his 21st birthday. He had suggested it during lunch that early-spring day and Saruman had nearly choked on a prawn flavored potato chip (one of his guilty pleasures).

Saruman was only too happy that he and Gandalf were sitting alone in the corner of the teacher's lounge that day. Radagast being the one to keep an eye on the children along with his new boyfriend.

Saruman and Gandalf both were still dumbfounded by those turn of events a couple weeks back despite their help in it.

Anyway.

Saruman had asked, cheeks ablaze, why Gandalf felt the need for such "experiments". The man already had him panting and gasping from just attention and _damn good_ foreplay, especially when he caught him unawares during recess and such. And from the very suggestive shape that would show up in his lover's pants during the times things truly got hot and heavy-thankfully usually at home and never around the children- Saruman knew Gandalf was fine with it too.

Gandalf's reply was to smirk and answer in a husky voice "What can I say, I've never stopped wanting to learn and see new things. Besides, you never really seem to _mind_ my 'experiments'."

And despite himself, and his boyfriend's corny lines, Saruman always found himself being persuaded and trying something different- and blissfully it was always pleasurable for the both of them-and would end up spooning both grumpily yet not really so with his best friend in bed. Both sated and cozy in after glow.

This time was no different, though Saruman was sure his back would never feel the same. Although he would admit that the cracking of his spine from neck to tailbone was ridiculously mind blowing and only added to the experience, he wasn't exactly sure if it meant good or bad things. At least this time they were at his house, so if anything happened he wouldn't have to deal with Radagast seeing him in his underwear.

Saruman was taken out of his thoughts when he felt lips on his neck, kissing the tender skin there. Arms wrapped tightly around his waist and Gandalf pressed more firmly into his back. Saruman couldn't help a small smile, he took one of Gandalf's hands and interlaced their fingers. With a small purr he moved his head so Gandalf could have an easier go at his neck, which he took enthusiastic advantage of.

He liked this.

Their moment was ruined when the sound of the doorbell rang through the home.

It rang not once but twice, the person at the door not even letting the first ring finish before pushing it again. Both men gave noises of annoyance, it was Sunday! Who came by early morning on a Sunday?! Despite his improved demeanor none of Saruman's neighbors ever came by to call and everyone they knew was smart enough to phone first.

"Morons." Uttered Saruman with a sigh as he slipped from Gandalf's grasp, they should get up anyway.

"Mor_mons_, dear." Corrected Gandalf with a laugh. Saruman simply grinned at him and bent down for his underclothes. The other man fully appreciated the view.

Gandalf grunted as he sat up and pulled on some underpants. By the time he had located his robe- an old white one borrowed from Saruman- the person on the porch had rung again and then gave a knock at the door. Gandalf couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the knocks, for they were in a pattern.

These were not blunt poundings on the wooden door, but an intelligent mix of knuckles and palm that spoke of meaning. Gandalf turned to Saruman to remark about it but the words died on his lips. On the other side of the room stood Saruman, frozen, his hands halted in the middle of tying his own robes. A look of abject disbelief and horror was plain as day of his face.

In record time Gandalf was there in front of him grabbing him by the shoulders, he was shaking.

"What is it?" He asked softly. Concerned.

"It couldn't be…" was the only thing Saruman said, his face in Gandalf's direction but not seeing him at all. Suddenly he moved around Gandalf and toward the door, hands unconsciously tying his robe. Saruman crept to the door, a frowning Gandalf behind him; he had never seen the other man act like this before. They stopped at the corner where the hallway to the door began, Saruman simply stared at the door as if he could see through it.

The doorbell gave a double chime once more. And this time a voice came through the wood. A lilting, cloying tone of a man full of confidence and airy charm. And something more.

"Curumo my Venus. I know your home, have you changed so much that you are no longer the stickler for manners I once knew?"

_Curumo? Venus?_ What kind of nicknames where those? Who was calling _his_ Saruman that?

"F-fuck." Whispered Saruman, his voice barely a whisper as the color quickly drained from his face and he pressed himself up against the wall.

Gandalf's frown deepened, not only did he not like that voice but also Saruman's actions put him on edge. He had never heard the other man swear so ineloquently and fearfully before. Once more Gandalf came forward and placed his hands on Saruman's shoulders, the other man quickly went to hide in his chest.

As Gandalf wrapped his arms tightly around Saruman he asked quietly, "Who is that?"

Saruman was silent for a few moments and then said, almost tonelessly, "Sauron…My first…and really the last…ah, before you."

Realization came to Gandalf then. The name had sounded familiar, and he knew why. He remembered right in the middle of his time as a student at Valinor hearing gossip from down the grape vine about Saruman having a boyfriend, people either only had good things or bad things to say about him. For reasons Gandalf had excused as simply wanting to learn how his old friend was doing- oh how even the wisest are ignorant of themselves at times- Gandalf had subtly and voraciously gathered all information he could about Saruman's beau and their relationship. He had not liked at all what he learned.

"He was that underclassman, a rich man's son and leader of some sort of campus gang?"

"You don't know the half of it." Muttered Saruman darkly.

Gandalf huffed. He had had enough. First he was going to get rid of whoever was there on that porch, and then he was going to comfort the visibly shaken man in his arms and get some answers. With purpose Gandalf quickly settled Saruman into a nearby chair, shushed him when he tried to protest and marched confidently to the door.

He opened it and did his best to hide his surprise. Standing on the porch was probably one of the most beautiful men Gandalf had ever seen, beautiful and somehow terrible. Sleek Italian shoes supported form fitting black slacks secured with a black leather belt with a silver buckle, a tucked in blue shirt and grey jacket. His right hand hung casually at his side, an iron ring on the thumb, his left hand held a bouquet of Anemone, Carnation, Clover, Geranium, Jonquil, Poppy and Rainflower wrapped in white paper and had a platinum ring on the index finger. He looked to be at least twenty years younger than both Gandalf and Saruman, but his sharply glittering eyes gave his age away. He had dark-honey hair over a light olive complexion; his build was lean but not scrawny.

Two men in all black stood on the lawn facing the street and all around. No one was out on the street, though a few curtains were drawn back. A sleek, black car of foreign make was parked in front of the house, the two spots in the driveway already taken.

All in all it was quite the impression. Gandalf wanted to punch the slightly smirking man in the face for unnamed but perfectly justified reasons. He made sure to keep the door only open just so, only his upper body really visible.

The visitor spoke.

"Hello. I am Sauron Belegur. May I speak with Saruman?"

"There is no one here by that name." Said Gandalf with all the neutrality he could muster.

Sauron's smile grew a dangerous edge at his answer. His eyes narrowed just a bit.

"Let's not play games, here. Okay? We both know this is the home of Saruman White. Now may I see him. Please." The man's voice had gotten harder, yet no less airy and his questions came out more like commands.

Gandalf straightened his already perfect posture and said "Saruman is not receiving visitors today, so try _another time_." He made sure to emphasize "another time" meant never.

Gandalf quickly began to close the door but Sauron brought up a hand and halted its progress. He then leaned forward to stare Gandalf dead in the face and said

"I think you should let me in to see Saruman." His voice now spiked with an undercurrent of threat.

Gandalf simply glared, his unseen hand gripping the thick wooden broom he had grabbed on his way to the door.

"You have no power here, lad. I suggest you try calling later."

The two stared at one another, the visitor's bodyguards now walking up the lawn toward them. They stopped when Sauron raised the hand still holding the bouquet.

"Very well. I'll come back later. You tell him that."

With that Sauron backed from the door and straightened his clothes. Gandalf quickly closed the door in his face and locked it. He then moved to the kitchen and covertly looked out one of the windows that faced the street. He watched as the younger man spoke to his henchmen as he looked over the house; one of them went off to the car and started it up. A moment later Sauron made his way to the car and the three drove off.

"Is he gone?"

Gandalf turned to see Saruman standing in the doorway of his kitchen, still visibly upset but now much more him-self than he was earlier.

"He is. Now I think you better tell me what is going on." Said Gandalf with both authority and gentleness.

Ten minutes later they sat at the kitchen table, a cup of calming tea-topped off with a bit of liquor-for each of them. Gandalf had also placed a plate of biscuits on the table between them, neither of them were hungry but it put back a bit of normalcy that they had lost. Saruman didn't look at him, just stared at his steaming tea.

Gandalf waited.

"That wasn't his real name, you know. Not completely. Sauron is just a middle name, his real name is Mairon. Mairon Sauron Belegur. He likes Sauron because that's the name his father always called him by, he said it sounded much "better". He…I…" Saruman trailed off, still not looking at Gandalf.

He reached out and laid his hand lightly over the other's.

"Just take a breath, Curunír."

Saruman took the advice and started again.

"It was a surprise when he began showing interest in me. Though he didn't have many university years under his belt he had already made quite the reputation for himself. Students of all grades and many teachers either loved him or hated him. He just showed up one day in the Orthanc Observatory, I was going through the various star-charts from the library there for research. I had gotten up and went searching for this one book, written by a fellow named Palantír, and just as I went to reach it he swiped it.

Made this big show of looking at it and saying how he had been looking for it. I knew he was lying and asked for the book. He looked at me then, with eyes much too intelligent and searching for someone his age- our age practically- and told me I'd get if I agreed to a date with him first. I hardly could believe it, this underclassman with bright hair and dark eyes was actually trying to pick me up with blackmail."

He shook his head then, the barest ghost of a smile crossing his face before it slipped away.

"I don't need to tell you how dateless I was in college, being "Mr. Grumpy Puss" and "Sharkey" and all. Unfortunately it didn't take long for me to say yes, and that was that. At first things were rather wonderful, he was intelligent and witty, praised me; he made a number of things in his various metal-work and shop classes for me. People came around me more while I was with him…

He told me many things, and I in return shared much. It…it was like being with you again. Like before, before I…and we…"

The sad-reminiscence in Saruman's voice made guilt and rage built up in Gandalf's chest.

"But he wasn't as he seemed."

Saruman let out a dry laugh and set his mug of untouched tea aside. He then gathered Gandalf's hand in both of his and looked him in the eyes for the first time.

"Oh yes, underneath all that charm and "warmth" lay dark, sinister thoughts. You see, Sauron's father wasn't the "business man" he always talked him up to be. At least not in the sense everyone thought. He was, in actuality, the Gang Lord Morgoth."

"The one that that one criminology teacher was openly researching in partnership with Interpol? Suspected of being one of the "Kings of the Crime World"?" Asked Gandalf incredulously.

"Yes, He was the "Black King" to be specific. And he was raising Sauron to follow in his footsteps. The Black Prince, if you will. I know because he told me and showed me things given to him by his father, just months into our relationship, during one drunken night at his home where I swear he snorted, something. "

He paused, lost in thought and momentary disgust before continuing.

"This was at the very same time things began to get sour between us. Sauron had begun to get…possessive and wished to know where I was at all times. He began having his little lackey "friends" keep an eye on me, I would notice them while I went about my days without him.

When I tried to get him to stop…I never really got a word in edgewise. In anything. His ways of persuasion were, much too much."

Gandalf had a feeling Saruman meant more than just Sauron's supposed way with words. He remembered more than once seeing or hearing about Saruman's black eyes, bruises and stiffness around the end of that year. And all of his excuses for them. The anger moved down to his belly, burrowing deep.

"We began to have arguments, about my friends, his habits, my willingness to "give him what he wanted", _you_. He didn't like when you and I talked or were even in the same room together. He was always outrageously jealous, when he learned of our habit of using middle names he "gave" me a new one. The one he called me at the door. I'll tell you now Olórin I never liked it. He even began giving my old roommate Celeborn threats to not get any "funny ideas". Even though he and Galadriel were dating at the time!"

He gave a huff, old anger and frustration giving him strength to speak. Gandalf just sat there, giving silent support. His thoughts whirling.

"He lived off campus in this apartment his father had bought him, it was nice and he lived in it alone. His father apparently too busy with "Business" to have a permanent home with him while he went to Valinor, thank Eru this meant I never met the man. Which I would have, since Sauron had me over more and more often."

Gandalf nodded his head. "I remember that, Celeborn actually came to ask me if I had seen you around a few times since you weren't ever home anymore. I could never find you either."

"That's because I was avoiding you. I wanted to talk with you about this…oh how I wanted to…but I couldn't. I felt…I felt as if the gap between us was too wide for that anymore, I felt self-conscious…I didn't want Sauron to be your problem as well."

Gandalf's frown deepened and he said "I would have been _happy_ to help you Curunír, you must know that. I'll admit…I kept my ears open for any news of you. I still considered you my friend and…as much as I never admitted it to myself I was jealous that you were together with someone."

Saruman looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes."

Saruman gave a short laugh and rubbed his forehead with his hand, "Why do I have the feeling Galadriel is laughing at us?" It was ridiculous but…

"That's because she probably is, and has."

The two enjoyed the lightened mood in silence for a moment before continuing to talk.

"So how did things end? I was never able to get a full story from anyone and I'm sure it had to deal with more than just him leaving the school after that year."

Saruman made a noise of disgust. "I tried to break up with him so many times, I couldn't take it anymore. I finally…went to see a counselor, Mrs. Estë, I didn't tell her everything but I told her of my troubles and she consoled me. Her words…helped greatly and helped resolve me to end it.

I'm sure you heard or even saw one of the many scenes between me and Sauron near the summer. All of those had to deal with his reaction to my trying to be rid of him, and somehow no matter how ugly I saw him get I always took him back. You know he even tried to propose to me?! Made me this gold ring and everything! Made himself his own in platinum and wore it even though I always refused. After the third time he then threatened me!"

"Are you serious?! And you didn't tell anyone?" Gandalf couldn't believe it.

"Who was there to tell? This was mid-summer when things finally got to that stage, so no campus authorities to see and hear. I couldn't go to the police, his father would have pushed everything under the rug. My friends? He made it VERY clear that his personal little army of thugs and that of his father's would get to the few that I had. You? The lunatic told me that if I even tried to call you he himself would make sure to hurt you personally and slit your throat while I watched!"

The fear and desperation began to creep back in, Gandalf reached forward and cupped the other man's face as he made soothing sounds.

"It's alright. I'm here. I'm here."

After a few moments Saruman composed himself and continued.

"Finally it came to the time when he would be leaving, apparently to start his proper training, and he tried to get me to go with him. But I refused, no matter what threat or coercion he tried I wouldn't go with him or even promise to wait for him. I was spent.

But he surprised me, though I could tell he was angry his actions became calm and he accepted it. He promised he would return though, and "get me back, no matter the challenge". And left. I tell you that was by far the scariest he had ever been."

"Quite the threat." Said Gandalf then. "Took him until now to fulfill it though." He was about to laugh a little but stopped when he was Saruman's expression.

"This…isn't the first time he's come by. It's the second."

"What?"

"He came back during the our time as professors at Valinor. It was only for a while, he tried proposing again and I, again, refused. But though he was obviously angry with my rejection he didn't try to threaten me. He tried sweet words, gestures, and gifts. No matter how many times I threw away the things he gave me- especially that _damn ring_- they always reappeared in my home."

"He snuck into your house?!" Asked Gandalf angrily.

Saruman nodded, a tiny, rueful smile passing on his face.

"Yes, I had the locks changed twice, though none of my locks or doors looked forced into. I was so stressed I took it out on all around me. Even you and Radagast, with that stupid "war" we had going for a while with our food and such. It helped to keep me grounded; it distracted me from the fear. I was sure he would just come in the night and take me away, kicking and screaming.

When he finally left a second time he once more promised to come back, saying he wouldn't give up on me. And as we've both seen, he hasn't. I don't know how he found me, not only did I change apartments after his visit but I moved here when I came to teach at the primary school and left no forwarding address."

Gandalf brought up a hand and slammed a fist lightly into the table. His emotions charging his actions.

"This has gone on long enough! He's terrorized you twice now, and that is two times too many! This is going to end!" Gandalf was fuming, his kindly face showing the anger and determination of a man half his age.

Saruman could only stare, flabbergasted at the display. He had long given up trying to make his problem disappear.

"What do you plan to do?"

"First I'm going to call the police, if I remember correctly my old friend Ira is still a detective there. I know he will help us."

And with that he walked over to the kitchen phone and began dialing. Saruman could only watch in amazement, and rising hope.


	2. Thoughts of a Detective

_Here you go dear readers! What's a good romance novel dealing with crime lords and such with out a detective? Hahaha I did this instead of work and writing my other stories! Yay!_

_Okay! For those not in the know, 8888 means the next scene is simultaneous to the last while 88888888888888888888 means the next scene takes place hours afterward, my quirky short hand! _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing! Not even my characters! Once I birth them they dust themselves off and leave home, barely ever bothering to write or call. Enjoy!_

Two- Thoughts of a Detective

Ira Zimmerman rubbed a darkly skinned hand tiredly over his face and once more idly wished he hadn't switched majors in college and had become a carpenter instead of a detective for the Organizational Crimes Department of the Middangeard Police Force. Right now it was 11:30pm on what was meant to be a badly needed Sunday off work. These dreams were crushed when he was awoken by a call from his partner detective Triggs, what he was told had him sitting up in bed quickly enough that it disturbed his cat Rutabaga from her morning snooze. With a quick change of clothes and a thermos of Irish coffee that was MUCH more Irish than it really needed to be Ira got in his car and made the way to work.

Of all the ways to run into old college friends…

Ira remembered Gandalf well, though the two hadn't actually exchanged words in…at least a decade? Less? More? He was getting old.

When Ira had started his stint at Valinor Gandalf was already well on his way to becoming an accredited professor, the two met during Ira's sophomore year at a forensic investigation seminar. The room had ended up being packed and the two sat together at random and had idly chatted while the lecturer-a Dr. Ronald Tolk-was late due to traffic. Ira was there because he needed the credits and all of the coveted lectures and seminars taught by Professor Aule-a genius craftsman and renowned architect- had been taken and Gandalf was there seemingly for the fun of learning it.

At least that's what Gandalf had told him.

That lecture course would forever change Ira's life. Dr. Tolk was an intelligent man and his presentations upon criminal investigation- especially dealing with organized crime-had awakened interests in him that he hadn't felt since he was a child reading detective stories. And Gandalf was no help, or nothing but help, depending on your position. The two would end up having many late night talks about their class material and when Ira expressed the thought of changing his planned major Gandalf quickly arranged for Ira to talk to the famously busy Dr. Tolk to help him make the decision. It seemed like no time at all and suddenly Ira was well on his way to a criminology degree with Dr. Tolk as his mentor and woodworking had become a simple hobby.

And thus began a rather successful career and spawned the reason why Ira had specifically been called into work today- other than the fact that Gandalf had apparently asked to talk to him especially. For you see it was rather well known that Dr. Tolk had done work as a criminal investigator for Interpol before going into teaching at Valinor and though he was by then considered a "civilian" he had still worked with them on several on-going cases. The most prevalent being the effort to take down the crime Lord Morgoth or the "Black King" of the crime world. Dr. Tolk was known for his obsession with the case, an obsession he passed on to Ira. The detective had been the one to inherit the boxes upon boxes of notes and files on the Black King upon his mentor's passing and he made sure to add it all to his department's wealth of evidence.

Ira was the leading expert upon the "Morgoth Case" and any new leads or information was taken directly to him. No. Matter. What.

So after a quick debrief with an apologetic but intrigued Mrs. Sylvia Triggs Ira spent the next five hours interviewing his old college friend and his lover, a Mr. Saruman C. White. Ira watched both Gandalf and Mr. White carefully as they recounted his story, suspicious as to why the man had never come forward with his information before. Especially since it seemed he had been harassed multiple times and not only had been himself threatened but had several of his loved ones- including Gandalf- threatened multiple times by this Mairon in the past.

This man who apparently had taken up his _father's_ mantle of a crime lord; a rather snuggly fitting reason as to why The Black King was still active after all this time and the new name of Sauron had been affixed to the title in recent years, wasn't it?

But the man was earnest and rather nervous, but had an iron spine that kept him calm enough to detail everything. He looked completely like he was telling the truth, and both he and Gandalf passed the polygraph. Both men didn't look like the type to waste police time, both were obviously not looking for money or a thrill.

They looked well fed and clean and-he might as well admit since he was alone, though it was unprofessional-attractively well kept. If Mr. White really was being stalked Ira Zimmerman could understand why, though the man really wasn't his type. Ira preferred his women softer and his men harder than himself, and Mr. White was all soft underneath the snarky/straight backed attitude. A tad too soft for his liking. And Gandalf was a friend.

Anyway,

Though Ira balked at the implication that the son of the Black King had actually attended their school, right under everyone's nose- hell, he had even heard of the guy during his time there- the details given by both Saruman and Gandalf seemed to coincide with evidence from the time period.

And on the list of possible identities of Morgoth Dr. Tolk had placed a Melkor Belegur-a "shady" little-known entrepreneur- as one of the top three.

And so after a long talk with his superior Ira went about the task of compiling and gathering records while detective Triggs escorted their two witnesses home and set up a vigil outside Mr. White's house undercover. After a few hours and a lackluster lunch with a small whisky chaser to keep him going Ira had replaced Triggs at her post in his own car. She had tried to argue to stay longer but she had a family to go home to, he had a well fed cat and a cold case that just might be turning hot again after two years of non-activity.

And so here he sat, car off, portable police radio on so he could have a line open to dispatch, and a bag of nuts, a bottle of water and his flask to keep him company. Several newly printed files sat in a box in his backseat, ready to be taken to his "Case Room" at home. He had one at work as well.

He needed to get out more.

_8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888_

3:00 am.

Shit… he was tired. Just a few more hours and Gonzalez would take over from here and he would get to go home for a while before starting afternoon shift with Triggs. Ira yawned and cracked his back, rubbing a hand through his curly hair and did another sweep of the street. The middle class neighborhood was quiet and dark, the only light in the pre-dawn were the street lamps and soon they would turn off.

They just turned off.

Ira blinked his eyes to adjust to the new light and counted the amount of parked cars he could see on the street. The number was the same. He looked at the houses, all dark. He surveyed Mr. White's house from his position across the street. Just like his neighbors his home was quiet and dark. A scrawny looking tabby slinked across his yard, it gave a look in Ira's direction before walking out of sight around the front of the two cars in the driveway.

He wondered if Rutabaga had enough water back at home, he had forgotten to check her water dish before he left this morning.

Ira was about to give another yawn when his eyes caught movement. A black, sleek car was rolling its way into the street. It drove slowly and had the headlights off. He squinted his eyes to try and discern details as it got near him. It looked like the car Gandalf had described. There was no license plate.

It stopped in front of Mr. White's home and idled, Ira sat perfectly still in his slouched position. He saw shapes moving in the cabin, two figures. Probably males. They seemed to be talking- at least their heads seemed to point to one another occasionally.

Now wide awake Ira slowly moved a hand and reached for his gun, which he had placed upon the seat next him. Just as his hand enclosed around the handle and he fingered the safety the passenger side of the black car opened. A large figure of a man, dressed in all black, quickly crossed the lawn and walked upon the porch.

Ira flipped the safety and was just about to jump out of the car when the man started on his way back. Within a moment he closed the door and the car began to move forward, but it did not speed off. It crept forward once more, Ira could see the heads of the figures inside looking in his direction. When the passenger window was parallel to his own a light came on right in his eyes, both hands came up then. One pointing his gun and the other to protect his vision.

Blinking quickly he saw that both passenger and driver stared at him, he realized the light was a flashlight. The staring contest continued for a timeless moment and then the light was off and the car drove speedily away, its head lights still turned off. Breathlessly Ira got out of his car and watched as the other vehicle drove out of the street as he tried to get someone on the radio.

Just as it turned he got someone on the line and reported his number, his location, the car details and its current direction. As soon as he was told someone was on the way to try and intercept he left the radio and rummaged through his car quickly for his own flashlight. Then, keeping his gun drawn, he made his way across the street and on to Mr. White's porch.

He flashed his light upon what had been left there: a bouquet of flowers, a rare colorful assortment of them. They were wrapped in a white paper held closed by a string, something was tied to the string. He knelt down to get a closer look; it was a shiny golden ring and little white card with a punch hole in the corner for the string to go through. In neat cursive lines was written a single four letter word.

_Soon._

_Okay! Zimmerman means carpenter (heh) and Triggs means loyal. Artistic license on any and all police proceedings, I'll try my best to be as accurate as possible but please remember I'm going by T.V. shows like Law & Order and friggin wikipedia as my references. _

_I think the word rutabaga is funny. Please tell me what you think and stayed tuned! :) _


	3. Friday

_And finally things progress! Sorry for the long wait!_

_Disclaimer: Nothing, I own. ENJOY, please. hahaha Yoda._

Three- Friday

Saruman was shitting bricks. There was no pretty or eloquent way to say it. If it was anatomically possible he would have broken his toilet because building materials would be coming out of his rectum.

And nothing Gandalf did to console or distract him only accomplished so much. He was too caught up in memory lane and wondering what would happen next.

It had been like this for the past week, ever since he had been woken up on Monday morning to detective Zimmermann and those damn flowers on his porch. He decided to stay at Gandalf's house after that. The flowers by themselves wouldn't be so bad, nor the message that came with them, but for the fact that the ring that was also attached had disappeared on its route to the evidence room.

One moment it was being taken away in an evidence bag, the next the officer who had been transporting it was found in his car two hours later, unconscious, and thankfully unharmed, with no bagged ring and no memory of what happened.

Saruman, Gandalf and, by proxy when his boyfriend wasn't around and so rode with them, Radagast started getting a police tail after that. Though they made a point to be discreet so as not to alarm parents, teachers and students alike at the school. Galadriel had offered to give Saruman some time off-to help him or get rid of him during the whole trouble he wasn't sure-but he declined.

Bricks being shat or no, he would not let Sauron keep him from living his life. If he could help it.

But by the mercy of the powers that be nothing-at least nothing that he was aware of- had occurred for the last couple of days. But Saruman knew that what happened on Sunday would not be the last of it. He had gotten the message loud and clear.

At least it was finally Friday, and time to go home for the week. With a small sigh of relief Saruman locked his classroom down for the weekend and went to join Gandalf on the playground. Once more some parents were taking a while to pick up their spawn and Gandalf had opted to simply watch them himself until they were safety taken home.

Upon arriving to the black top he realized the left over tykes-or at least the last of them- was Gandalf's "class couple"-a Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Durin, who, along with whom Saruman considered Gandalf's adopted daughter, a Belladonna Baggins, Gandalf never stopped talking about- and that he wouldn't have to wait long. Said children had already been collected by their mothers and were being walked off to the car. Gandalf waving a last goodbye behind them.

Saruman raised a hand, simultaneously giving his own goodbye and succeeding in getting Gandalf's attention. The other man smiled upon seeing him and quickly made his way over. A glint of paranoia at the back of his mind made Saruman's eyes flick away from Gandalf's handsome face and survey the surrounding area. On the streets around the fenced in play area there were several parked cars. None of which seemed occupied.

"Is everything alright?" Asked Gandalf as he slipped an arm around his waist and pulled Saruman toward him.

Despite his unease Saruman relaxed against his lover, though he did not look at him until he had stared at every car.

"He's not there. I've been keeping my own eye out." Said Gandalf into his ear.

Saruman gave a small, slightly embarrassed huff and turned to him.

"I can't help but look."

"I know. I know you're scared. But I'm here, and I won't let anything happen to you." Gandalf cupped Saruman's face with his free hand.

They shared a quick kiss-which quickly developed into something hotter- and then made their way out of the school. As they walked into the parking lot Saruman saw that they were among the last to leave. He took another look around and saw a familiar man sitting in his car across the street, looking straight at them.

Upon seeing detective Zimmerman Saruman relaxed more fully onto Gandalf.

"What are we doing tonight?" Asked Saruman as he and Gandalf got into the car. This time they had taken his car, so he sat in the driver's seat.

"What do you feel like? As you saw at lunch, Haldir has kidnapped Radagast for the weekend, so we have the whole house to ourselves." As he finished his statement Gandalf wiggled his eyebrows, telling Saruman his suggestion on what they should do.

He had to admit he wasn't very opposed, and couldn't help himself from smiling a little as he put on his seat belt and started the car.

"I can think of a few things…but nothing from page 34! Understand?"

Gandalf laughed as he enjoyed the sight of his boyfriend asserting himself over sexual matters; embarrassed voice, pinked cheeks and all.

"Alright, alright. As you wish." He said with mock dramatics.

Saruman harrumphed good-naturedly and drove out onto the street.

"Before we get to the fun, though, I have to pick up some more things from home."

"Is that wise?" Asked Gandalf, suddenly serious.

The police had apparently kept up a watch on Saruman's home to see if there would be any more activity there, and though so far nothing had been seen he didn't like the thought of going back right now.

Saruman shrugged. "I just want to get a few things, more clothes, maybe some books. It'll take no time at all. Besides, you'll be there with me, won't you Olórin?" Here a slight grin graced his face.

Ganalf returned it and placed his hand comfortingly on Saruman's knee. "Of course, Curunír."

They enjoyed their moment and then Saruman turned back to the road, barely paying any mind to Gandalf's hand, which still rested on his knee. As he was concentrating on the slight traffic which usually clogged the area on weekends, and that he was used to how handsy Gandalf was, he didn't notice how his boyfriend slowly brought his hand up his jean covered leg.

At least until they were at a stop light; that was when his brain finally told him of a very warm hand caressing his sensitive inner thigh. Right next to his now slightly excited privates. Keeping his heating face pointed ahead and on the road Saruman grabbed Gandalf's wrist with one of his hands while he kept the other on the wheel.

"Stop that." He ordered, voice breaking slightly. He was much too responsive for his own good.

"You should keep both hands on the wheel." Answered Gandalf, voice slightly scolding and husky.

"And _you_ should keep your hands to yourself." Growled Saruman, doing his best to express his annoyance and remain stoic in the face of his lover's antics.

Which was becoming harder since Gandalf had continued on as if Saruman was not trying to restrain him at the wrist, and was now massaging the ever growing bulge in his pants. He hoped none of their neighboring drivers could see-or were looking if they could-in to the car.

Gandalf simply laughed, enjoying his boyfriend's predicament. He let up though when the light turned green, but not before giving a final tantalizing stroke of his hand that was clearly meant as a message of "to be continued."

The rest of the ride to Saruman's home Gandalf continued to laugh. Enjoying the show of a flustered and squirming kindergarten teacher that grumbled about inappropriateness and road safety and the fact that there was a _police tail_ on them who probably saw everything. Or enough.

Gandalf's only response was that he hoped he had enjoyed the show, which only made Saruman sputter and he himself laugh more.

Unknown to them, he had. Detective Ira Zimmermann had spied what they were up to as he had managed to be at the right spot behind them to see. It had made him grin despite himself. He had a small chuckle as the light turned green and followed close behind as Mr. White made his way to his home.

He hoped-and was rather sure- it was for only a short visit. There were only a few leads on the case and he and his department were still trying to follow them all. After the theft of the ring from fellow detective Hector Gonzalez the whole Middangeard Organizational Crimes team had stepped up to the plate.

Triggs had dragged him from his desk though, saying that if he didn't want to go home he should at least go on patrol while she took over looking at the evidence. He had wanted to argue, but only somewhat. He had been looking at it all for so long and trying to get information that he was starting to loose himself. Plus he respected his partner's intelligence, if anyone could figure out something new, it would be her and her fresh set of eyes.

Now he was glad that he had covered this patrol, since Saruman was taking a detour. They weren't sure how safe Mr. White was in Mr. Grey's home, but no suspicious cars or persons had been seen in the area so there was a chance the location was unknown. Either way, it was agreed to be safer than Mr. White's abode.

Keeping his distance detective Zimmermann made sure to park his car further down the street as Saruman entered his driveway. He watched as he and Gandalf exited the car and then entered the home. Turning to look up the street he spotted the car of the current patrol officer. At that moment his phone rang and he answered.

"Thanks for sending a forwarding message that they would show up." Came the sarcastic words of one detective Munch right in his ear.

"Sorry."

He got a scoff in reply, followed by a "Whatever, coffee's on you later."

"Any suspicious activity in the area?" He asked as he surveyed the area.

"Nothing of note other than some fumigators for the house next door to White's. The worker's seem rather odd."

"You think _all _fumigator's are odd." He chided tiredly.

"I'm serious this time. All shifty eyed and they were rather rough with making the house covered and all. Equipment only came in a few duffels."

As he listened Ira looked up the street toward the fumigator's van and the tarp covered house. He noted there was a worker smoking a cigarette as he waited in the driver's seat.

"Well, there's a real company's logo on the car. How long have they been there?"

"About an hour, and as of yet, none of those who came in have yet to come out. You'd think that guy in the van would go and help."

"Yeah…"

"…You think?..."

"Impossible. I didn't even know until they turned on the last street, and I was following them. Your fumigators have been there for a while."

"Could be a ploy to occupy the house long term. There's only one person living there and it wasn't reported he was leaving with any suitcases or the like from the previous patrol. And he has yet to return."

"What's his job?"

"Retired. Might have gone out but…all day? Makes sense if he's going to get fumigated, and he may have transferred his stuff someday before. But…you know? I was just about to investigate actually. Care to join me?"

"Keep your cover. I'll go and you watch my back. Keep your gun and radio close by."

"Roger."

Ira hung up his phone and put it away. With stealth he eased out of his car and made his way to the fumigator van. He quickly hid behind a car near the van and gave a quick look back at Munch before turning his gaze on the driver.

The man behind the van's wheel was rather large and lounged in the car as he smoked yet another cigarette. Ira made a face as he spied several butts on the road right below the window. The man wore a beige uniform and had long, shaggy hair.

Ira flicked his eyes over the van and narrowed them as he got a better look. At first glance the van looked like any other used by this particular company, but the longer he looked the more he realized something was off.

The logo looked as if it was painted on the car in a way that a big company wouldn't do, like the picture was just pasted on or something. It just looked wrong. His eyes traveled to the house-or at least what he could see of it past the van- and he took in the state of the tarp. But it looked clean.

He heard the squawk of a radio and turned his eyes back on the driver and watched as he shifted about and brought one up to his ear. He listened for a minute and then answered some guttural response before putting it back down. The man then flicked the unfinished smoke out the window and started up the van.

Moments later a large commotion could be heard behind the van. Ira made his way over and watched as several workers came out of the house, one went ahead and opened the back doors of the van while two others came out carrying a large duffle and hurriedly placed it in the van. Ira stared.

He recognized them from somewhere…

They left and then came back out with another duffle, Ira watched closely. As they neared the van, and him, he saw that the bag wasn't closed properly and gave him a glimpse inside. He saw a hand. Looking at the workers again he realized where he had seen them.

"Freeze! MPD!"

He was wasting no time and held his gun out, cocked and ready. He came forward and waved it right in their faces.

"Drop the bag and step away from the car!"

The fake fumigators all looked at him, the driver yelled something out. His words a garbled mess Ira couldn't understand. The one who opened the door grinned and turned to him as the other two continued to load the other duffle into the bag.

"I said drop the-ugh."

It had been quick, too quick. The man had practically leapt forward and collided on top of him. Ira shot his gun once and then it was wrestled away from him. Now he was defending himself as the guy atop him punched and scratched at him.

He heard shouts and gunfire, undoubtedly Munch to the rescue. Ira twisted and managed to place a hard punch in his opponent's stomach which gave him an opening to get him off and go for his gun, which had skidded a bit away during the tussle. He had only gotten so far though when suddenly a hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him back. He only had time to turn around and see a large fist nearing his face before everything went black.


End file.
